Absinthe Fever

Thursday, December 28, 2017

Could never whistleand make music out of water,so I sit in a box andlisten to John Mayerto feel good about break-upsmy eyes, they never said much,smile almost unfamiliarnothing grew in me,evertoday I cut my hair shortsaved them locksI went out to get drunk by myselfin the arms of a cold December night,witnessed some things which never existedcame back andslept restlessly

Friday, March 31, 2017

Can't remember the last time I dancedbut I'm drinking tonight,drinking to the sight of a free sky --Who thought I could look at the sky from my windowAll these girls missing the sight of all these boyswhen will the pain end?

Sunday, February 5, 2017

There's a man who would not look into my eyeshe would walk past my gazea little shy, maybe suspiciousturning back, looking at me slyly through the corner of his eyesonce, just onceand twice and that's itFinally he listens to me and finally he is talking,sign of a comforting secondtells me about his love for fishessome names who will remember,not me of courseI like the water lilies better,screw their scientific names thoughdoesn't he agree?We drank to our complimentsalmost every night a week once,opening champagne like monkeys,drinking cheap wine like drunkardsThere's something about his eyes though,would travel through the sun every timebut look at meNothing sweeter than a shy man,aren't you kind to me?too kind?Would you walk into our thick trees when I am away -hold yourself down into one of those drencheswhile no one's lookingsleep the night away and don't be afraidthere's nostalgia and despair and absurdity of everythingand in the morning wake up as fresh as you want to be.For Shurjo